


First, Forever, Always

by phoenixwings



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aftercare, Dirty Talk, Dom Katsuki Yuuri, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Gags, Kink Negotiation, Light Spanking, Lingerie, M/M, NSFW, NSFW Victuuri Week, Name-Calling, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Sex, Sub Victor Nikiforov, Verbal Humiliation, safe sane consensual, still dorks in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 19:14:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11515677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwings/pseuds/phoenixwings
Summary: The first time Victor goes to Yuuri and asks if he’d be open to something a bit rougher, the request doesn’t go as plan. He stammers and only manages to get out a few odd words here and there that definitely don't make any sense out of context.The thing is, Victor’s never been very good at voicing his deepest sexual desires. Until now, he's never been in a relationship in which he felt safe enough to do so.





	First, Forever, Always

**Author's Note:**

> Few things:
> 
> 1\. If you're reading this because you've read my other Victuuri works, please heed the tags! I still bring the fluff (they are, after all, dorks in love. Just kinky dorks in this case), but it's also a lot rougher than I normally write and there is (consensual) dirty talk/name calling. I tried to tag everything I could think of that might make someone go "LOL, NOPE" or "YES THAT". Relatedly, if you do normally read my stuff and this is decidedly not for you, I will not be offended and I promise I'll have more SFW writing & fluff again in the future. 
> 
> 2\. If we "know" each other online, please pretend you forgot I ever wrote this. You can pretend someone else wrote this. Maybe FenixWings wrote this, if you'd like. 
> 
> 3\. Written for NSFW Victuuri Week, day 6: BDSM.

The first time Victor goes to Yuuri and asks if he’d be open to something a bit rougher, the request doesn’t go as plan. He stammers and only manages to get out a few odd words here and there that definitely don't make any sense out of context.  
  
The thing is, Victor’s never been very good at voicing his deepest sexual desires. Until now, he's never been in a relationship in which he felt safe enough to do so. That’s not a problem with Yuuri, but he gets tongue-tied and afraid that he’ll scare Yuuri away. Victor doesn’t know how to tell his fiancé, who he loves, that he sometimes fantasizes about Yuuri tying him down and calling him names, that he has fantasies about wanting to be made to cry and beg. He trusts Yuuri not to really hurt him. That’s the appeal.  
  
Victor’s not oblivious. He’s seen some of the more unsavory posts his fans make about him online. He’s stumbled into message boards about what exactly people would do to Victor Nikiforov if they ever got him into bed. He’s read posts that turned his stomach about strangers wanting to slap him around, pull his hair, call him a whore. They’re not exactly wrong. Victor does want those things. But they’re not right, either, because he doesn’t want that with just anybody. He’s been in the public eye almost his entire life, and he knows people have all sorts of opinions about him. He wants Yuuri, only Yuuri, because he knows Yuuri would never mean it.  
  
Yuuri, who blushes and stammers out a thank you every time Victor brings him flowers or a coffee. Yuuri, who kisses him all the time, just because, on the top of his head, his cheeks, his chest, his temple. Yuuri, who, when he’s had a few too many glasses of wine, will climb into Victor’s lap and pat Victor’s cheek and tell Victor how beautiful he is. Yuuri, who greets Victor every morning with a smile. Yuuri, who’s seen the real him, cracks and all, and still holds him gently and with such reverence.  
  
It’s harder to tell Yuuri all of that that, especially when they’re communicating in a language that isn’t native to either of them. So what happens is a dance of conversation over several weeks, both of them cautiously broaching the topic at different times. At one point, when Yuuri says after dinner one day, “I’ve been researching—um, what we talked about, I mean, and I just don’t know.”  
  
Victor panics.  
  
He sits up straight on the couch, untangling himself from Yuuri’s embrace. It’s unpleasant to move away from where Yuuri had been stroking his hair softly, but he wants to make sure Yuuri takes what he’s about to say very seriously. “We don’t have to try at all if you’re uncomfortable with it,” He reminds Yuuri. “That’s not—that’s not what I want.”

Victor wants to try this out with Yuuri, he _really_ wants to try, but he doesn’t want Yuuri to think he needs it or that he’s unsatisfied with their sex life in any way. Sex with Yuuri is the best he’s ever had, even when they trip trying to get out of their jeans (Yuuri), or fall off the bed (Victor, and it was only that one time. Nobody can blame him for being a little too enthusiastic when it’s _Yuuri_ in bed with him).    
  
Yuuri smiles softly and takes his hand. “I know.” His brow furrows, clearly trying to figure out how to best word his thoughts. “That wasn’t what I meant. I’m not against it. If you like it, I, um, think I’d like it too.” He admits. “I’m just afraid of hurting you for real.”  
  
“That’s what the safe words are for,” Victor says, “And we don’t have to start with anything that intense, or ever do those kinds of things if you don’t want to.”  
  
“And you promise you’d use them? The—the safewords, if we did something like that?”  
  
It’s a fair question. It’s no secret that there’s a drive in Victor to perform, to be the best, to be perfect. As guarded as Yuuri can be, there's a lot that Victor hides too. In another circumstance, with someone else, Victor thinks he might have trouble with it. He would hate to let his partner down. But Victor cares about Yuuri’s comfort more than anything, so it’s the most natural thing in the world to breathlessly respond, “Yes, I promise.”  
  
“Okay,” Yuuri smiles. “I’m still not sure, but that—that helps.”  
  
Victor settles back into Yuuri’s arms. “I’ve been doing research of my own,” He tells Yuuri. “Maybe I can show you?”  
  
“Sure,” Yuuri says fondly, and kisses his forehead.

* * *

  
Victor makes a PowerPoint. He texts Chris to tell him and his friend sends back at least six laughing emojis. But Yuuri is a college graduate with what Victor assumes is an appreciation for good information, so he adds in a bunch of example images of tasteful bondage and citations to ten thousand word blog posts with titles like _50 Shades of Safewords: Safe, Sane, and Consensual BDSM_. His last slide is just “I LOVE YOU” in size 60 font and a border of kissy-face emojis.  
  
During a particularly slow day during the off-season, Victor sits Yuuri down on the couch and hooks his laptop up to the mini-projector he bought off Amazon for this purpose, because when Victor commits to an idea he _commits._  
  
“Are you serious?” Yuuri asks when he sees Victor’s opening slide.  
  
“Very,” Victor says, and proceeds with his presentation before Yuuri has a chance to say anything. When Victor’s done, Yuuri pulls Victor into his lap and shakes his head.  
  
“You’re ridiculous,” He says as he moves Victor’s bangs away from his eyes.  
  
“Yeah, but you love me,” Victor counters.  
  
“So much,” Yuuri agrees.  
  
Yuuri pulls him down to make-out on the couch, and when Victor has to break for air he murmurs, “bedroom?” against the shell of Yuuri’s ear. They gently shoo Makkachin out of the bedroom and close the door, falling into each other like it’s the most natural thing in the world.  
  
When they’re done, Victor orders them a pizza on their phone while Yuuri rains kisses over the pale expanse of his back. “Let’s try it,” Yuuri says.  
  
“Hmm?” Victor’s brain hasn’t quite recovered from the rush of endorphins, and he still feels too blissed-out to follow the conversation.  
  
“What you wanted. Me to be rough, tie you up, call you names, all of that. . . Let’s try it.”  
  
Victor grins. “Really? And—you want to?”  
  
Yuuri’s quiet for a moment. “I might not have thought of it on my own. But I like trying new things with you. And I like that you want it so much. So. . . I want to try.”  
  
Victor nuzzles against Yuuri’s chest. “Best  fiancé ever,” Victor declares.  
  
“And don’t you forget it,” Yuuri teases.  
  
“Never,” Victor promises, reaching for Yuuri’s hand and kissing the golden ring that adorns Yuuri's finger.

* * *

  
  
Victor learns quickly that Yuuri is a natural at being dominant in the bedroom. He’s the perfect mix of rough, unyielding, and observant. After their initial attempt, in which Yuuri had been cautious and constantly checking-in, they fall into a rhythm. After each time, Yuuri always cradles Victor and looks at him with so much awe and love Victor can hardly stand it, and what comes before that moment is pretty great too. It didn’t take them long to learn that Victor likes it rough — _really_ rough — and Yuuri enjoys how much Victor likes it.   
  
It’s not how they have sex all the time. For as exciting as it is, sometimes Victor just wants to hold his  fiancé's hand and look him in the eyes as they drive each other to new heights of pleasure.  Victor’s never been good with dichotomies anyway, and he doesn’t see why he can’t have the best of both the vanilla and kinky worlds. One time he tells Yuuri they’re “Neapolitan flavor”, like the ice cream — a little vanilla, a little not.  
  
They have a system. When Victor wants Yuuri to take control, he puts on some of the lacy lingerie numbers he keeps stocked away. They’ve looked at things like collars or even just simple handmade bracelets on Etsy, but there haven’t been any that spoke to both of them, so for now this works. Besides, Victor loves the way he looks in the different lingerie he picks out. It aways feels smooth and silky against his skin, and even though he knows Yuuri always desires him, he loves the almost predatory gleam Yuuri gets in his eyes when he sees Victor in those outfits.  
  
Tonight the stockings and panties are a dusty lilac color that barely provides any contrast against his already pale skin, but the intricate and complex lace cut-outs provide plenty of allure. Victor knows he looks good in them. He preens a little in the mirror, then goes and waits on the bed for Yuuri to get back from walking Makkachin. Victor lies flat on the bed, his mind racing with all the possibilities of what Yuuri might want to do, if he decides to take Victor up on the offer. There’s a paddle in the closet that’s only been used once, but that Victor really liked. There’s also a vibrator that Yuuri favors, normally using it to drive Victor to edge and back again until he cries and pleads. Victor places his hands between the small of his back and the mattress to keep from touching himself. He’s already half-hard, beginning to strain against the panties, but when he’s like this Victor won’t touch himself unless Yuuri says he can. The “rule” itself is such a turn-on that Victor has to press his face into the pillow to keep himself in check.  
  
The excitement that thrums under his skin hits in full force when he hears the apartment door shut.  
  
“Victor?” Yuuri calls out.  
  
“Bedroom!”  
  
It takes Yuuri only seconds to find him.  
  
Yuuri’s eyes widen in surprise for just a split second before his shock lessens and he smirks, eagerly falling into his role. He glances into the living room, then shuts the bedroom door.  
  
“Well, what do we have here?” Yuuri asks.  
  
“I’ve been waiting for you,” Victor says, and he’s surprised by how breathless he sounds already. Yuuri walks to the closet and pulls down the large box where they keep most of their toys, rifling through it for something.  
  
“Close your eyes,” Yuuri orders, and Victor obeys immediately. “Hands above your head.”  
  
Victor feels the shift of the mattress as Yuuri sits besides him. He feels something soft and a little stretchy—a tie, maybe?—being roped around his hands.  
  
“Can’t have you touching yourself, can we?”  
  
Victor shakes his head and Yuuri grabs him rough by the chin.  
  
“Words, slut,” He grounds out. Victor breathes out, then in. Even when he comes to Yuuri for this, it always takes a few seconds to adjust to the shock of Yuuri being so rough with him. He loves it, and he’s the one who asked for it, but it’s still a mental shift. Yuuri plays rough, but gives him the time he needs to adjust.  
  
“No sir,” Victor says, and there it is, that part of himself he needs to access to fall into whatever comes next.  
  
“And what did you do before I got home, hmm? Bet you couldn’t control yourself, slut like you. Tell me, did you touch yourself in these pretty little lilac panties and think of me? Bet you were moaning like you always do, so loud the neighbors probably heard what a whore you are. No wonder I always have to gag you.”  
  
“No sir,” Victor pants out again, whimpering when Yuuri reaches down and grabs his cock much too hard to be pleasurable.  
  
“Don’t lie,” Yuuri hisses.  
  
“I didn’t, I didn’t!” Victor protests, and he feels Yuuri shift away.  
  
“Good. On your knees.”  
  
Victor flips over, pulling his knees up to his chest and keeping his tied hands outstretched in front of him. Yuuri runs a finger down the curve of Victor’s spine and he shivers.  
  
“Snap for me,” Yuuri commands, and Victor does so. “You remember what that means?” Victor nods, knowing that if Yuuri ask him to demonstrate that it means he soon won’t be in a position to talk at all. If he wants this to end, he’ll have to snap. It’s happened before, of course; they’ve tried out a lot of new things, some of which Victor only thought he would like and realized soon after trying he wanted to put an end to it right away, but Victor doesn’t expect that to happen tonight. Still, Victor knows, it’s important that they _both_ know the option is there.  
  
“Out loud,” Yuuri prompts, his voice gentler this time.  
  
“Yes, I remember,” Victor says.  
  
“Good,” Yuuri repeats. His hand snakes lower until he pulls down the band of Victor’s panties, cupping a firm hand over Victor’s ass. He barely lets his touch linger, and the contact is gone much too soon for Victor’s liking. Yuuri pulls down the underwear, nudging Victor to lift his knees. With nothing but the stockings on, Victor feels even more exposed than he does when he’s completely naked.  
  
“I know how you loud you can be, but I don’t want the neighbors to hear how much of a slut you are tonight,” Yuuri says, and Victor whimpers in excitement at Yuuri’s harsh tone. Victor doesn’t know why being called names is such a turn-on for him, but he doesn’t care. The payoff has always been worth it. “Open up,” Yuuri commands, and Victor opens his mouth so Yuuri can shove the panties inside to serve as a gag. The lewd taste of his own pre-come hits Victor’s tongue. Maybe once Victor would have felt shamed, but now it just makes him even harder and he moans into the panties. Yuuri tugs sharply at his hair so that Victor has no choice but to lift up his face, then Yuuri pushes him down face-first into the bed.  
  
“Don’t you dare come,” Yuuri warns, before Victor feels something wet and slightly cold pressing at his entrance. Yuuri’s finger works skillfully, pressing inside and then pulling back just enough to leave Victor wanting more. His body accepts the intrusion readily, and he wants, he wants. He ruts mindlessly against the duvet and Yuuri slaps his ass once, twice, three times in warning — hard, definitely hard enough for Victor’s skin to smart. “Needy little whore,” Yuuri says, and Victor keens into the gag. “You’ll get off when I say you can, if I decide to let you come at all.” Victor stops writhing.  
  
Yuuri knows Victor’s body too well for this. He’s excellent at giving Victor pleasure and taking it away. He knows just how to bend, how to press, how to touch, to get Victor closer and closer to the edge, but he also knows all of Victor’s tells. He knows how Victor’s breath hitches, how Victor’s toes curl, how Victor’s legs tend to jerk just slightly before he’s about the tip over that cliff. Yuuri adds another finger, seeking Victor’s prostate, and he uses all that knowledge to get Victor close, so close, before taking the promise of pleasure away. It takes one, two, three rounds before Victor feels tears slip down his cheeks, and he knows Yuuri’s probably just getting started. Yuuri keeps up a steady stream of dirty talk the entire time. He tells Victor how naughty he is and how sluts like him should be punished, and he emphasizes each point with another slap to Victor’s ass.  
  
Victor feels like he’s on fire. His entire being comes down to that one little movement of Yuuri’s fingers pushing in and pulling out of him again and again. Nothing else matters. Nothing else could feel this good. One little touch could ignite that spark into a flame, but Yuuri draws him back before it ever gets to that point, and Victor’s so frustrated. He curls his bound hands into a fist, barely resisting the urge to give in and punch the mattress in frustration.  
  
Yuuri withdraws his fingers and Victor whines, though of course the gag muffles it immediately.  
  
“You want to come?” Yuuri asks. Victor nods eagerly.  
  
“Earn it,” Yuuri says, pulling him up into a sitting position. He reaches for something and Victor sees a flash of gold before Yuuri brings the nipple clamps up to Victor’s chest and clamps one side to each nipple without preamble. Victor squirms because he’s so sensitive there even normally, and Yuuri’s been stringing him along for what feels like hours. Yuuri reaches up and unties Victor’s hands, but he doesn’t let them go until he’s pushed them behind Victor’s back and retied them together. Yuuri looks at him, a little softer, and Victor brings his middle finger and thumb together to show Yuuri that he can snap if he needs to. He knows that neither of them want to break the scene completely, but Yuuri’s constantly looking for reassurances like that, and Victor’s happy to provide. In one swift movement, Yuuri takes off his pants and boxers, then reaches up and tugs off his shirt. Yuuri’s pupils are blown wide with lust, and even through his haze of need Victor feels smug that he’s the one Yuuri’s looking at like that.  
  
 Yuuri shifts back so he’s sitting on the edge of the bed and pulls Victor towards him. With his hands behind his back, all Victor can do is feebly crawl until he reaches Yuuri’s lap. “Show me how much you like my cock.”  
  
Victor spreads his legs and maneuvers himself so he’s positioned above Yuuri’s cock. He’s definitely well stretched, but he has to go slowly because of the sheer magnitude of stimulation he feels as he slowly sinks down. Yuuri grabs Victor’s hips so roughly that Victor knows he’ll have bruises tomorrow. Victor squeezes around him, desperate to be good. He’s so sensitive that he feels every pulse and drag inside him a way that feels wholly new, despite how many times they’ve done this before. Victor wonders what he looks like right now.  He’s wearing nothing but lilac stockings, his hands are tied behind his back, he has gold clamps on both his nipples, his mouth is gagged with a pair of panties he’d been wearing earlier, and he’s riding Yuuri with all he has. He can’t tell, but he’s sure he’s blushed all the way down to his leaking erection and he knows he must look completely and utterly wrecked.  
  
Yuuri must be able to sense what he’s thinking, because he grunts out, “Wonder what all your fans would think of you now, if they saw how desperate you were for my cock.” Victor buries his face in Yuuri’s shoulder, the humiliation of the idea too overwhelming, but Yuuri’s having none of that. He keeps one hand on Victor’s hip to steady and direct him, and pulls the chain that hangs down between the two nipple clamps. Fresh tear spring to Victor’s eyes and Yuuri tugs each time Victor pushes himself up on his knees.  He’s so, so, close and he can’t do anything to stop himself. He whines and clenches and can tell when Yuuri’s getting close because Yuuri stops talking and screws his eyes shut.  
  
“Vitya, Vitya,” Yuuri chants as he orgasms, a brief moment of tenderness in the midst of everything. Victor leans into it. Yuuri’s skin is flushed and hot, but not nearly as much as Victor’s still is. It takes Yuuri a few minutes to get his breath back as Victor sits in his lap and waits patiently. Yuuri’s always made his patience worth it, in the end, and Victor really wants to see what Yuuri has planned next.  
  
When Yuuri’s composed himself, he glances heatedly at Victor. With a snap of his fingers, he points to the floor, and Victor follows by sinking to his knees on their bedroom carpet. Yuuri nudges Victor’s knees apart with his foot and slots his legs between Victor’s thighs.  
  
“You come like this or not at all,” Yuuri warns, and Victor doesn’t need to be told twice.He’s been on the edge forever, but getting any relief in this position is agonizingly slow. Every push feels so delectably good, but it’s not the same as having Yuuri inside him. If Victor could talk, he’d been begging and pleading incoherently, but as it is all he can do is whimper and rut against Yuuri’s leg.  
  
“Needy thing,” Yuuri chastises, “so desperate you’ll rub yourself off against my leg like the slut you are.” And oh, those words coming from Yuuri’s lips are just about enough to do it for Victor. He buries his face in Yuuri’s thighs as he finally comes, and it hits him hard after being teased for so long. Victor keeps humping Yuuri’s leg until he feels overstimulated and raw, and keeps his head down as Yuuri gently starts stroking through his hair.  
  
Yuuri pats the bed and Victor scrambles up to sit beside him. He’s in the blissful, hazy feeling that’s a combination of a strong orgasm and the space that Yuuri normally brings him too, but he’s also exhausted. Yuuri removes the underwear from Victor’s mouth first, tossing them aside as Victor takes in a ragged breath.  
  
“I’m going to take the clamps off next,” Yuuri says, quietly. “It might pinch a little, okay?” Victor nods. These particular clamps are new, but he’s used to the brief flash of pain that often accompanies the removal. This time it barely even registers. Yuuri moves down to Victor’s knees next and peels off the stockings that they have almost definitely ruined, and then to the tie that binds Victor’s hands together. Yuuri moves with slow, deliberate motions as he untangles the knot and rubs the strained muscles of Victor’s arms.  
  
“Does anything feel bad in a way it shouldn’t?” Yuuri asks. Victor takes a moment to catalog the aches and soreness he feels. He’s generally a fan of those feelings. He likes it rough, and he likes the reminders, but he owes it to Yuuri to make sure. After thinking about it, he shakes his head. His arms are definitely tired and his knees will be sore tomorrow, but none of it feels sharply painful or like something's wrong.  
  
“Bath first or juice?”  
  
“Kiss?” Victor asks instead, his voice coming out in a croak.  
  
Yuuri smiles and leans forward, kissing him first on the cheek and then tipping his chin up with his index finger. “Of course you can have a kiss,” He promises. Victor sighs into it. It’s tender and gentle, so different from just minutes before.  
  
The first time they had done this, Yuuri had fretted over Victor as soon as they were done and smothered him with compliments. Victor appreciated it, really, he did, but it was too much for his brain to handle. Victor knows Yuuri doesn’t mean any of the names he’s called him, but it’s too much for Victor to switch from that to being called beautiful and lovely in the span of minutes. It messes with his head. He needs to come up slowly. This, though — Yuuri’s soothing touches against his heated skin and sweet kisses — this is what Victor needs to recalibrate.  
  
“Bath,” Victor murmurs when they break apart. He’s not big on talking soon after, either, so the word is a struggle to get out. He comes back to himself a bit more as Yuuri leads him to the bathroom. Victor sits on the closed toilet while Yuuri draws the bath. They’re both such a mess that Yuuri showers off first before joining him in the bath, but once he does Victor sighs happily and leans against Yuuri’s chest.  
  
“How are you feeling?” Yuuri asks once the water starts getting cold. He’s been gently scratching at Victor’s head for awhile, and it makes Victor drowsy.  
  
“Good,” Victor says.  
  
"I'm glad," Yuuri replies.   
  
“How about you?” Victor asks.  
  
“You liked it?” Yuuri asks instead of answering the question right away.  
  
“I did,” Victor tells him, “A lot. Using those panties as a —”  
  
Yuuri clasp a hand over Victor’s mouth. Victor sticks out his tongue and licks Yuuri’s palm, making Yuuri yelp and Victor laugh. “Don’t _say_ it,” Yuuri says.  
  
“You can do it but you can’t talk about it?” Victor teases.  
  
Yuuri groans. “It’s just so embarrassing when you just say it like that.”  
  
“Well, I liked it,” Victor concedes. He tilts his head back so he can look at Yuuri directly. “A lot. We should do it again.”  
  
“Then I’m good too,” Yuuri says, and kisses the top of Victor’s head. He sighs. “The water’s getting cold. We should go to bed.”  
  
It takes several more attempts at coaxing Victor out before he reluctantly agrees. Yuuri wraps one of their expensive, fluffy towels around him and helps him put his pajamas on when they get to the bedroom. Victor doesn’t need the help, not really, but he knows that Yuuri needs this, needs to take care of him. Besides, it feels good to have the contact of Yuuri’s skin against his own in any context. Yuuri persuades Victor to drink some juice. Victor guzzles it readily, because the sooner he’s done the sooner he can pull Yuuri into his arms.  
  
It often amazes Victor how he now gets to have this, everything, his life. He’s had fantasies for a long time, and before Yuuri, he had plenty of offers to fulfill them. He never really took anyone up on that. Now he gets to live them out with Yuuri, and every single one has been amazing, but it’s not just that. It's that the man he romps around in bed with is the same one who curls up with him on quiet mornings, the same one who goes on long walks with him and Makkachin and does crossword puzzles at the kitchen table Victor bought years ago when he was so lonely and full of longing. In the bedroom Yuuri is the one who dominates Victor, yes, but he’s also Victor’s best friend, his fiancé, his _partner_. The thought sends a pleasant shiver down Victor’s spine.  
  
“Vitya? What is it?” Yuuri asks, picking up on Victor’s shift of mood.  
  
Victor shakes his head and pulls Yuuri closer to him. “I’ll explain someday,” Victor promises. He will, once he has the right words. Maybe the right moment will be his wedding vows. Maybe it will be a program he choreographs. He’s not sure yet, but he knows in time he’ll be able to show Yuuri what he means to Victor. Until then, this is perfect, and it's more than enough.


End file.
